


Know your Limits

by FanGirlyGlee



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlyGlee/pseuds/FanGirlyGlee
Summary: Ray's a happy SAM: Smart ass masochist.  Fortunately Mick knows how to handle him.  Violence warning is for the last chapter where Ray gets into a situation that is definitely not safe, sane, and consensual.





	1. Relevant Experience

_Long enough ago to make a guy nostalgic..._

 

Going back to the old converted warehouse on Central City’s waterfront made Mick uneasy.  Harold and Pete had been good to Mick when he was younger; letting earn a few bucks doing clean-up and runnig errands. Eventually he was trusted to handle merchandise and got trained to work with clients.  There hadn’t been any hard feelings when Mick left to join Snart’s crew.  Harold understood how that life called to him, and had said the door would always be open.  Before Mick knew it ten years had passed, and then fifteen.  He wasn’t the same fresh-faced punk who Harold and Pete had taken in.  He had a name for himself now: Mick Rory, battle-scarred torch for hire.  Would they even recognize him? 

“You sure we should take this stuff to Jansen?”  he asked Snart.   

“Jansen-Smith,” Lenny reminded him.  “They got married last year.  Pete said it was for the insurance, but you can tell it’s true love.”  Both men rolled their eyes at the notion.  “They have the right connections to move stuff this high end and hot.  And if we’re lucky we can watch Harold beat the living hell out of some sap.”

They were greeted in the lobby by Pete, a lean man who looked to be in his early sixties.  Mick stopped to take stock of his surrounds. First, there was an actual lobby, with a receptionist and a security guard.   He spotted a box of doughnuts on the edge of the receptionist's desk.   Pete grinned and spread his arms wide.  “Lenny! Micky! Haven’t seen you boys in ages.” Snart submitted to a hug, while Mick side-stepped it and nabbed a chocolate-frosted with sprinkles.  “Good to see age hasn’t caused you to rethink your diet, Micky.  Come into my office.”

“You have an office now?” Mick mumbled with his mouth full. 

Pete showed them in and closed the door.  “I was surprised to get your call, Len.  Harold and are in a different line of work these days.”  He gave the two men a pointed look over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses. 

“Ah,” said Snart, taking his meaning.  “We appear to have been left out of the loop.  Though you could have have said so over the phone and saved us the walk.”

Pete sighed.  “You called the business line.  There’s no telling who might be listening.  Harold and I have worked hard to go straight as it were.  I’m not going to jeopardize what we’ve built by discussing _alleged_ criminal activities over an unsecured line.  Besides, I wanted a chance to see you boys.  It’s been ages.  Lenny, how’s your sister?”

“Lisa is doing well,” Snart replied curtly.  Mick could tell he was mentally revising what was needed to get the goods moved.  Normally Mick would concerned about Snart’s mood, but seeing Pete again wasn’t nearly as painful as he'd feared. 

“You really went legit?” 

Pete feigned sadness.  “Afraid so.  Harold had a cancer scare about five years ago.  It made us think hard about our future.  Don’t worry, we’re not getting a condo in the suburbs, but we didn’t want to be stuck in this warehouse our whole lives.  Come see what we’ve built.”

“I need to make some calls,” Snart said, pulling out his cell phone. “I’ll catch up.”

Mick followed Pete through the office area to the old warehouse floor that had been split up into various sections.  “Money’s good?” he guessed from the quality of the construction.

“Damn good,” Pete said.  “Remember when we would throw down kitty litter to soak up the blood between clients?” 

“I remember sweepin’ it up.”

“Floors are all coated now. Mop and squeegee and it’s done.”

“Lotta cameras around here,” Mick noted.”

“Relax. Not all of them are on at the moment.  We have them out here for security, and in the rooms for the live feeds.  It’s the 21st century, Mick. Perverts like us don’t have to leave home to see someone get his ass beat.  Speaking of which, let’s peek in on Harold.  He’s teaching some new hires.”

Mick’s head swam.  Had Harold and Pete really pulled this all together in just a few years?  He and Lenny were still chasing the big score; lying low in Starling between jobs and leaving the future for, well, later.  

Pete stopped in front of a solid oak door and knocked before entering.  Inside the room a small group of men and women were listening intently to every word spoken by the plain-looking man standing in front of them.  Harold turned to see them and grinned.  “Good to see you, boy.”

Mick snorted.  “Ain’t your boy.” 

“Always the tough guy.  Class, this is a former employee and student.  I’m afraid to say I failed to keep him from falling to the dark side.”  Polite laughter was followed by giggles from the class subject, a young man bound in the center of the classroom.  The chain between his cuffed hands was attached to a large hook dangling from the ceiling, stretching out his rangy body from fingers to toes.  Red lines across his stomach and chest indicated a light whipping had already taken place.  He was wearing only a plain gray jockstrap, and his head was covered with a black hood. 

Harold sighed, and handed a riding crop to one of his students.  “Regina, please teach college boy some manners.”  Regina commenced warming the young man’s backside, bringing color to the pale cheeks as he bravely stifled whimpers of pain.  “All the way from Ivy Town,” Harold explained.  “Poor baby couldn’t find anyone to give him what we can.”  A particularly loud slap was followed by a yelp of fear.  Harold turned.  “Too high, Regina.  Stay away from the kidneys.”

“Sorry, Master Harold,” she called out and resumed upward strokes to spread out the pain from the underside of the young man’s buttocks.  His toes curled and he resumed panting needily.

“Pain slut like that could make a dom very happy,” Pete remarked as Harold kissed him on the cheek. 

“I already have you, my darling.”  Harold reached under Pete’s jacket to grasp his nipple and twist it harshly, making the taller man gasp.

Mick grimaced.  “Seriously? When are you two gonna stop acting like horny kids?”

“I hope never," Pete replied. 

Harold looked Mick in the eye. "When are you and Lenny gonna stop running around like two-bit hoods and grab onto something solid?"  
Mick huffed, but didn't answer.


	2. Bad Boy

Mick sidled up Zari.  “Whozat? Some nerd friend of Haircut’s?”  Across the hotel lobby, Ray was shaking the hand of an older gentlemen in a worn leather jacket.  

“Friend yes,” Zari confirmed. “Don’t know about the nerd part.  Before he put on the jacket, I spotted a tattoo that spelled out the word “sadist” in large colorful block letters.”

“Huh.”  Mick sniffed and began drumming his leather-encased fingertips on the pillar they were leaning against.  

“He looks like someone’s grandfather. Grandfathers are supposed to make ships in bottles or have workshops in their garage.  I wonder if he tortures people in garage.”  Zari sounded quite concerned.

“Only if they ask nicely.”  She stared as Mick tried to explain.  “Come on, if he was some sort of psycho Ray wouldn’t be friends with him.”

Ray approached with a business card in his hand.  “It pays to know people who know people,” he remarked.

“Old professor of yours?” Mick asked.  The corners of Ray’s mouth turned up a bit.

“More like a mentor, though I did know him in college.”  He let the matter drop.

Ray’s friend put them in touch with someone who had access to antique manacles that could supposedly restrain a magical creature.  For Mick that meant all that was left was to find out whether harpies burned. 

 

After dinner Ray seemed distracted while doing his evening chores.  The dishes were done, but he was still messing around with the utensils.  At one point he pulled out a wooden spoon and examined it critically.  He moved abruptly to leave the kitchen. “Where ya takin’ the spoon, Haircut?” Ray clearly having forgotten that Mick was still sitting right there enjoying his post-dinner cocktail.

“Oh! Um, nowhere.  I was just moving it over to the other spoons."  He put it down a little too quickly.   Maybe it was the bourbon or the pink in Ray’s cheeks that made Mick think of other parts of the boy scout’s body, but he heard himself say, “You need a spankin’ all ya gotta do is ask.”

Eyes wider than the saucers neatly stacked in the dish cupboard, Ray’s brow quickly furrowed.  “Don’t tease.”  He scurried away leaving Mick to ponder another drink, or going after him.  He chose both.

 

Mick knocked on Ray’s door and was admitted.  “What’s up?”  Ray was trying to sound like his usual bouncy self, but something was still off.  Mick let the door close and leaned against it lazily, swirling amber liquid in his glass.  “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on with you?”  Ray remained silent, feigning innocence.  “Fine.” Mick finished his drink and set down the glass before reaching behind his back to pull a long-handled wooden spoon out of his pocket.  He rolled the handle between his right thumb and forefinger.  “I think you wanted to bring this back to your room tonight,” he speculated.   

“Wha-what would I do with a spoon in my bedroom, Mick? I don’t have an easy-bake oven under the bed.”

Moving slowly, making sure Ray’s eyes were on him, Mick began tapping the flat side of the spoon against his left palm.  “Ya know, we’ve been doin’ this dance a while, Haircut.”   Spurred on by the warmth in his belly as much as Ray’s deer in headlights expression, he decided to push as far as he could.  “Doesn’t hafta be complicated.  We all got itches need scratchin’. How long since someone helped you with those hard to reach places?”

Ray’s eyes were glued to the spoon as it came to rest on Mick’s belt buckle.  He licked his lips.  “Too long,” he whispered.  “Can’t do it myself.  I try, but it’s no good.”

“Take off yer pants.”  Ray hesitated for a second, then undid the button on his khakis and slid them down over his thighs.   Standing there in his sensible navy boxer briefs, pants pooled around his ankles, Ray’s hands curled into nervous fists while his eyes flitted from Mick’s to the spoon.  “What are you going to do?” 

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want you to smack me with the spoon.  On my thighs, and my backside.” 

“Lie back,” Mick instructed.   Ray did as he was told, reclining on his bunk with his legs slightly parted.  “Gonna warm ya up a bit.  You tell me to stop an’ I’ll stop.”

The spoon came down on his left thigh and Ray flinched.  It hardly left a mark, but the sound was immensely satisfying.  Mick followed it up with a matching blow on the right thigh.  Ray squirmed and closed his eyes while Mick continued.  He increased the force for the subsequent strokes, but eased up when moving toward Ray’s inner thighs.  Ray squeaked and his hands moved instinctively to protect his crotch before they were withdrawn seconds later.  He laced his fingers behind his head.  “More please.”

Mick obliged, turning pale skin a mottled pink.  “Flip over and pull down your drawers.” Ray obeyed, gasping when the sheets met abused flesh.  “Shush.”  Though he tried to remain focused on the task at hand, Mick couldn’t help but notice the dusting of fine hair at the apex of the split between soft cheeks.  Giving in to temptation, Mick kneaded Ray’s butt with his gloved hands. Ray hummed and gave a little wiggle.  “Nice ass,” Mick mumbled.  “Gonna make it even prettier.”  The spoon came down hard, bringing a rosy glow to the surface.  Keenly aware of how tight his own jeans were, Mick was curious how deep the rabbit hole went for Ray.  “You hard right now?”

“God, yes.” 

“You cut?”

Ray began rolling onto his side in an effort to display his erection.  That earned him harsh blows to the backs of his thighs.  “I didn’t say show me.”

“Ah! Yes.”

“Huh.  So I’m gonna wrap this up, you’re gonna thank me, and then take care of yourself when I leave, okay?”

“Yessir.”

Mick ramped up the speed and severity of the blows until sections of abused skin went from red to white and blisters began to appear.  Ray was rutting against the mattress when Mick tossed the spoon down beside his head.  “Thassit.  My arm’s tired.  G’night Haircut.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.  Thank you, Sir.”

Mick was proud of how fast he was able to get back to his room given the friction his jeans provided against his raging hard-on.  It didn’t take him long to finish, imagining how nice Ray’s butt would look with a light glaze.    


	3. New Textbook, Revised Edition

Following an explosive orgasm and the application of some cooling gel Ray slept soundly.  In the morning he donned sweat pants to give his skin a bit of breathing room.  Throughout the day he had to remember to walk slowly and sit carefully.  No one paid his deliberate movement any attention, except Mick, who watched him like a hawk while pretending to enjoy his weekly bowl of oatmeal.  

He was alone in the lab when Mick finally approached.  “You didn’t get healed up."

“Defeats the purpose,” Ray claimed.  “If we needed to go out, I would ask Gideon to fix it, but since I have the time I want to enjoy it.”

“Guess that answers whether you’re mad at me.”

Ray chuckled.  “Why would I be mad? I asked for it.”

“Some people forget that.”

“Not me. I may not always be good at asking for what I need, but I know what I like.  In fact I wish you’d…”  He stopped and cleared his throat nervously. 

“What?”

“If you’d stuck around I would have thanked you properly.”

“You really wanna go down that road?”  Mick was standing close enough for Ray to smell the remnants of his shaving cream.

“Did you come to my room last night just for my benefit or did it turn you on too?”

Mick sniffed loudly, effectively admitting that that he’d been aroused as well.    “Good.  There are times when I want the pain because it helps me release pent-up emotions, but more often it’s directly connected to my libido.  Last night was definitely the latter, and I think we’re on the same page.”

“Kind of a weird book, though,” Mick remarked. 

“What’s weirder – merging with the team to defeat a demon, or letting me suck you off after you spank me?” 

“Point taken.  So, uh, you busy now or still feelin’ thankful?”

“Door, lock.”

 

Ray took care of business and then and shooed Mick away.  “We’ll talk later about what else we like,” he promised.  Over the next week, Ray took care so no one other than Mick caught sight of the bruising as it came and went.  “You think that’ll scare me off, Haircut?” Mick asked, viewing the results of his handiwork.

“You wouldn’t be the first to turn down a second encounter after seeing the ugly aftermath of the first.”

“Doesn’t bother me, and you seem pretty proud of ‘em.”

Ray grinned.  “Indeed.  Have you looked at my checklist?  Is there anything you want to cross out, or add?  I had to guess at your skill set.”

“I’ll show you skills,” Mick growled playfully, making Ray laugh.

“I hope so.  Would you like to demonstrate, maybe later tonight?”

“You’re not healed up yet.”

“There are other things we could do, or rather, that you could do to me.”

“Yeah okay then.  I meant to ask what brought this all on? Was it the actual dungeon or the sex shop?”

Ray sighed wistfully.  “The shop.  Just being in there, smelling the leather and latex and hearing the clink of the cuffs on the rack brought back so many memories.  I haven’t had a chance to play hard for a very long time.  All of sudden I _needed_ so badly.”

Mick laid a hand on his neck.  “Had me fooled.  Thought you were as freaked as Pretty by the ball gags and nipple clamps.”  Shaking off an involuntary shiver, Ray smiled.

“I was trying not to drool. Over the years I’ve found other ways to serve that partially fulfill my desire to submit, but I’ve never quite gotten the hang of inflicting pain on myself.  I’m glad you didn’t freak out when you realized what was going on.  Some people, friends even, can't understand.  They don't want to know this part of me exists – this other Ray – that needs to come out sometimes.”

“Bad Ray?”

“More like naughty Ray.  When I’m him I can say and do things that would shock people.  I like it even more if someone  _makes_ me do those things.”

“Got a lot of ideas for what I can make you do, Haircut.”

“I was hoping so.”

 

It turned out that Mick’s boots needed shining and his several back up pairs of leather gloves oiling.  Ray got to work, humming happily as he knelt on the floor of Mick’s room.  He paused for a moment, noting the hair on his arms standing up.   “I swear you turned down the heat just to make me extra uncomfortable.”

“You complainin’?”

“No, Sir.  Just making an observation.  Though I wouldn’t mind if we could loosen these a bit.”  He gave Mick a pleading look and shook his shoulders lightly.  The other man checked the clock. 

“Yeah probably should take ‘em off.”  Ray stood with his hands behind his back waiting patiently as Mick released the clamps from his testicles, hanging out the leg of his boxers.  Ray bit back a whimper when the chain linked to his nipples was removed.  He was freed, but Mick twisted and pulled the sensitive nubs while blood flow returned.

“Ahh!”  Ray’s knees buckled and he sank to the floor, gasping.  Micks fingers carded through his hair. 

“Get your dick out.”  The order was quiet, but firm.  Ray obeyed, hoping to gain any favor he could.  “Scale of one to five, how bad you wanna jerk off in front of me right now?”  
“Four, Sir. Your pleasure comes first, Sir.  Would you like to make use of my mouth?”

Mick gripped his chin, tilted his head up and stuck two fingers into Ray’s mouth.  “Whatcha gonna do with that smart mouth of yours?”  Tongue snaking over the intruding digits, Ray spoke as best he could.

“Wha’ever u wan’”

“Good answer.  Think I’ll take you up on that offer.”  He unzipped his jeans, pulled aside the leg of his briefs and exposed himself.  “Just the balls to start.”

Ray bathed each soft sac with his tongue, then gently held each in his mouth, drooling over it.  Boldly he extended his tongue downward toward Mick’s perineum.  That earned him a cuff on the ear.  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.  Jeez look at how bad you’re leaking.  Gonna put a condom on you next time just so you don’t make a mess on my floor.”  Ray’s face burned with shame and excitement.  “All right, open up.”

Ray moaned as Mick’s cock shoved past his lips.  He found that if he focused on his breathing, he could even pull Mick's cock into his throat a little bit, which seemed well received.  Ray felt his own cock jump when he thought about how good it would feel to have it inside him.  He quickly returned to the task at hand as his mouth was filling up and Mick had already said he didn’t like a mess. 

“Unh, hell yeah, Haircut. Good boy.”  Mick pulled back and tucked himself into place. Ray winked and made a show of licking his lips. “Get yourself off.” Ray didn’t have to be told twice.  His hand moved quickly along his length, maintaining eye contact.  “Tell me,” Mick breathed. 

Ray was confused.  “Huh?”

“Tell me how you like me shooting down your throat."  
“I love it when you fill my mouth up and make me lick you clean.  You can shoot wherever you want, in me, on me.  I’ll be your cum slut.”

“Shit, Ray.  You’re gonna get me hot and bothered all over again talkin’ like that.”

“Just saying I want you stripe my back and jizz all over me; rub it into my skin and mark me as yours.  Ah, please, Sir, can I cum?”

“Go for it.”

His hips stuttered as he thrust into his own hand and exploded.   He managed to catch most of it in his hand, but a few dribbles hit the floor.  Ray grabbed the rag he’d been polishing with and wiped it up.  “Sorry, Sir.”

“No worries, Haircut.”  He helped Ray up, wrapped him in a big soft robe and put his arms around him.  “Doin’ all right?”

Ray let Mick move them to his cot where they sat beside each other while he unwound.  “You’ve had subs before, right Mick? The way you worked me over with the spoon, I can tell it’s not all book learning.”   Mick brushed his fingernails over one still swollen nipple, making Ray jerk. 

“I sorta learned on the job.  Knew these guys in Central who gave me a place to stay; taught me a few things.”

“Harold and Pete?”

“Yeah, you know ‘em?”

“Went there a few times in college and grad school.  There were a couple dominas in Ivy Town; one within walking distance of campus.  They were good, but I wanted to experience being dominated by a man, and she recommended Master Harold.  I lived for the weekends I could spend a couple hours trussed up in that warehouse getting what I deserve.  Anyway, you were saying.”

“Well I worked there before it got all fancy.  I learned how to hurt people the way they liked.  Never had a sub myself though.  Eventually I decided not to pursue a career beatin’ people and stuffin’ junk up their butts.”

Ray stifled a laugh. “Hell of a hobby though.  I can understand how you were lured away by the glamor of arson and thievery.”

“Hey, I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout the long term.  You’re awful sassy, you know that?”

He nuzzled Mick’s neck.  “I’ve been told.  I just wanted to make sure you were into this.  If you weren't, I'd still want to be with you like we are now."

“You seriously think I’d bother if I didn’t like it - like you? Idiot. Maybe it’s like you said about going into that shop, where I didn’t think I wanted it anymore until I did.  Quit worryin’ about it.”

“Yes sir.”  Mick pressed his lips to Ray’s forehead. 

“Go drink some water and get some sleep.  I’ll check on you later.”


	4. Putting in the Work

Constantine had once again completely ignored the chore wheel, but Ray didn’t seem to mind.  He scurried around doing dishes, picking up empty liquor bottles,  and was singing while he did it.  “I’m not imagining this, right?” Zari asked Sara.  “He’s enjoying cleaning up even more than usual.”

Sara nodded, “Haven’t seen him skip around like that since…oh well that explains it.”

“What?”

“Ray got some.” 

Zari giggled in spite of herself.  “When? We were barely off the ship yesterday.”

“He did go off to _ru_ _n errands._ ”

“He hooked up that fast?”

“I can’t think of another explanation for why he’s gliding around like a Disney princess.”

Zari sighed.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had it that good.” 

Sara patted her on the back.  “We’ll take a break soon.  You can get some R&R.  Maybe then you’ll cheerfully vacuum Mick’s room.”

“Oh no.  I’m not going back in there.”

“Good,” a deep voice rumbled in her ear.  Zari whirled around to find Mick standing behind her.  He was holding a drill and had safety glasses perched atop his head. 

“Are we renovating?” Sara asked.    
“Thinkin’ about turning Pretty’s room into a bar if he doesn’t come back, but nothing serious.”  He depressed the trigger on the drill to get Ray’s attention with it’s high pitched whir.  “Hey, whistle while you work, come help me put up some shelves.”

Ray immediately hopped over to his side.  “Sure thing, Mick.”

 

Standing on Mick’s desk, Ray marked the locations for the placement of the eyebolts.  “Did I get them all, Gideon?”

“Correct, Doctor Palmer.  That spacing should provide enough support for the suspension apparatus.”

Ray hopped down and went to help Mick sort hardware.  “Kind of surprised you wanted to set this up in your room.”

“Not sure a sex swing goes with your décor,” Mick teased.  Ray blinked slowly, clearly considering the possibilities.  “Calm down ya horndog.  We’ll have some play time when we finish.  You’re bouncing around like a kid who just lost his virginity.  People are noticing you’re extra goofy.”

“Sorry.  Can’t help being happy.”  Mick gave him a playful swat on the rump.  Ray sighed and wiggled suggestively.  “Um maybe I could have a little something to keep me going.” He pulled down the vee of his t-shirt inviting Mick to nip at the exposed skin.  A couple bites were hard enough to leave dark red marks.  “Ohhhh that’s good.  Thank you, Sir.”

“Get to work.”

“Okay, hand me the drill.  Gosh, I’m going to need to incorporate more stretching into my workout routine.  Haven’t had my legs up over my head in ages and I don’t wanna cramp up while you’re pounding my boy pussy.”

Mick dropped a bar on his foot.  “Ow! Would you quit talkin’ so dirty?”

Ray smirked.  “Nope.”

“That’s it then,” Mick said definitively.

Ray spent the next hour gagged in the corner, sitting on his hands and watching as Mick finished the first part of the installation with his shirt off.  There was quite a bit of unnecessary flexing and all Ray could do was fuss and drool.

 

As they’d planned, dinner was light fare.  Zari glared at Mick and pointed at his dish.  “Is that my tabbouleh?”

“No, it’s mine. Yours is in the fridge; made enough for both of us.”

“Oh good.”  She opened the container and grabbed a spoon, noting that Ray was enjoying another helping of the kale and quinoa concoction he’d been raving about recently. “Wait a minute.  Are you both eating salad for dinner?”

“This is wheat.” Mick stabbed a finger toward his bowl. 

“This isn’t,” Ray chirped before stuffing a forkful into his mouth and tossing his plate in the sink.  “I’ll do dishes later.  Dibs on the shower.”

 

Ray finished his bathroom routine, and commenced limbering up in his room.  He was debating silk boxers vs bikini briefs when someone knocked.  Clad only in a towel, Ray figured whoever it was could take their chances.  “Come in.”  He was surprised to see Mick, fresh from his own shower.  “Oh, hey.  I thought I was coming over to your place.”

“Yeah I know that’s what you thought, which is why I had ta switch it up.” He grabbed Ray by the neck and kissed him hard on the mouth before pushing him backward onto the bunk.  Suddenly, Mick was on him and Ray had to adjust to the weight of the other man’s body on his own.  Mick grasped Ray’s wrists and pulled the tie from his own bathrobe to bind them.  It was largely symbolic; a reminder to Ray to keep his hands out of the way.  Blunt fingernails raked over Ray’s bare chest, leaving crimson streaks.  “Decided we needed this,” Mick explained, trailing his open mouth down Ray’s sternum, placing biting kisses across his belly. 

“What is _this_ exactly?”

Mick stilled and looked him in the eye.  “Wait and see.  You tell me to stop, I’ll stop; always.”

Lips quivering slightly with embarrassment, Ray’s expression became serious.  “The last time I played, the dom didn’t respect my safeword,” he admitted.  “I wasn’t badly hurt, but it was pretty scary.  Also, if for any reason I can’t speak, and I start crying I definitely need the scene to end.”

There were more kisses and nibbling of Ray’s chin.  “Never wanna make you cry, sweetheart.”

Ray looped his arms around Mick’s neck and hugged him.  “I know. Now, what are you gonna do about my naughty mouth?”

Blue eyes flashed with delight.  “Gonna put it to work after you take a few lashes with this.”  He pulled a small quirt from the pocket of his robe.  Ray nodded and leaned back, keeping his chin up and out of the way while he was whipped.  The sharp stings didn’t linger and he was pleased with the spread over his entire torso.   Pointedly ignoring the tenting of Ray’s towel, Mick had him kneel on the foot of the bed while he removed his own robe to reveal a bright red jockstrap.  Then Mick got on his hands and knees on the bed, presenting his backside to Ray.  “Get to it.” 

Unable to believe his luck, Ray started slow, letting just the tip of his tongue flick over ridged flesh.  When Mick didn’t move away or complain, Ray gave the opening long slow licks, wetting it thoroughly.  “Come on, Haircut, it’s not a tootsie pop.  Don’t need to know how many licks it takes to get to the center.”

Ray dove in earnestly, stabbing and probing with his tongue, eagerly drinking in Mick’s huffs of pleasure.  He swiped against the perineum, down to the balls hanging in his face and back again.  His own erection began to throb, spurring him onward to make Mick feel as good as possible so that he might return the favor.   

Finally, Mick groaned and turned around.  Ray cocked his head, unsure of what to do next.  “Good job, sweetheart.  Your turn.”   Ray eagerly laid on his back, spread his legs, and exposed his genital area by holding the backs of his thighs.  “God, you’re like a puppy.  Hope you don’t mind I didn’t shave.”  Ray squealed at the bristle of whiskers against the most sensitive areas of his body.   Mick delved into his tight pucker with as much enthusiasm as Ray had shown, quickly transforming the boy scout into a quivering heap.  “Please Sir,” he begged.  “Please put your fingers in.”

“Lube.”  Ray’s left hand scrabbled to open the second drawer in his night stand and retrieve a bottle.  With the drawer hanging open, Mick took a peek.  “Nice toys ya got there.  Let’s try this one.”  He selected a slender curved toy, coated it with lubricant, and worked it easily into Ray’s anus. Sliding it out and then back in with slightly more force, Mick amused himself with Ray’s balls.  

“You’re gonna make me cum, Sir,” Ray warned.

“That’s the plan, Haircut.”  The other man whined, and in another minute he ejaculated all over his own stomach.  Mick quickly straddled Ray’s prone form, stroking his own hard length.  When he became aware of what was going on, Ray started panting.  “Yes, please Sir.  Give it to me.”

The first glob hit Ray’s chin and he was able to reach it with the tip of his tongue, the rest hit his neck and chest.  Mick rubbed their combined fluids into Ray’s skin. 

Ray was thoroughly debauched.  “Gonna need another shower,” he gasped.  “Unless you want people asking whose slut I am.”

Mick snorted and kissed him roughly.  “Thought you’d wanna earn my cock before you go bragging.”

“God yes.” He pulled Mick on top of him to enjoy the heat of his body


	5. Hand made is best

Mick had begun tinkering again, working his way up to making things he could try out on Ray.  Nate came upon Mick welding in the cargo bay.  He was working with a foot-long metal rod that curved at the end, attaching something to the tip that was suspiciously bulbous and flared.  “Is that a fish hook?”

Mick examined his handiwork.  “Sorta.  Guarantee something’s gonna wriggle on it.” He set it aside and returned to assembling a series of bars and chains.  Noting that Nate’s interest hadn’t waned, Mick sighed.  “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend this is art therapy, okay Pretty?”

“Hey, you do you.  Zari’s teaching Sara to cook and Ray’s started some weird sort of yoga that looks dirty but he swears is opening up his chi.”

Mick chuckled.  “Sounds great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to smooth out the edges.”  He flipped down his safety shield and started up the grinder wheel. 

 

Mick stopped by Ray’s lab and simply said, "Plug it up.”  The scientist shivered and immediately went to his room to insert what Mick had left for him.  All afternoon he had to fight the urge to push his backside up and out, signaling his availability.  Ray was also left to wonder why Mick would have him stretching his hole.  They'd had sex several times and Ray had always been able to accommodate the other man's girth.  He found himself singing again as he worked, mindful of how good it felt to have his needs satisfied regularly.  As far as Ray could tell, Mick was as pleased with the arrangement as he was, and it hadn’t changed anything about the way they interacted in the field.  Although, whatever he called himself: masochist, bottom, submissive, Ray was still a romantic.  Sometimes he fantasized about Mick giving him a token that acknowledged their relationship. It didn’t have to be anything big, maybe a watchband or little lock and key to hang in his room.  He shook his head and stopped that train of thought. It was enough that Mick wanted him and was an attentive dom. 

It was movie night and Ray literally couldn’t sit still for worrying whether his rear was generating enough moisture to soak through his underpants.  He _could_ ask Mick if it had been in long enough, but that would impact the level of their play later that night, and Ray was too excited for whatever was planned.  Finally, at the appointed time he entered Mick’s room, quickly disrobed, and knelt quietly in presentation pose.  He watched silently while Mick finished preparations for the evening’s activities.  He set out water, lubricant, various leather implements, and the tools necessary to get Ray out of any restraints as quickly as possible.  Then he slipped off his boots and removed his shirt.  Without no effort, barefoot and in jeans, Mick was dominant eye-candy.  He had Ray stand and fastened a spreader bar between his ankles.  His arms were cuffed behind him with a bar between his elbows, forcing his chest out.  Mick pulled a rope down from the ceiling pulley and attached a shiny new metal hook.   He attached a second rope to bar behind Ray’s back, which pulled him upward and forced him to stand on the tips of his toes. The plug was removed from Ray and the lubricated metal hook inserted with little ceremony. Ray groaned and then bit his lip.  “Hey, we have that sound depressor thingy. Let it all out,” Mick urged. 

“Suppressor,” Ray corrected followed by, “Oh - it's so cold! And if I relax my legs I feel like it’ll go wayyy far up.”

“Too much?”

“No.  No, Sir.  I can handle it.”  

Ray was presented with a large black leather flogger.  He kissed the handle before Mick moved around to thwack it on his back.  “Wish we had room in here to swing a single-tail,” Mick mused.  “I’m outta practice though.”

Ray rotated his head, enjoying the warm-up.  “I’ve never had one of those used on me.  I’d try it for you, though.”  Dozens of leather strips caressed his back, buttocks, and thighs.  Mick moved around to the front, flicking his wrist so flat impact was switched up with rotational. 

“Now this is like riding a bike,” Mick commented.

“Feels great.  That’s not rubber though.”

“Nope, moose leather.”

“Fancy.”

“You want fancy?”  Mick pulled a smaller implement out of his back pocket and caught Ray across the chest, making him yelp.  “Kangaroo hide stinger.  Only the best for my sub.”

Suddenly feeling very proud, Ray was glad he didn’t break into a sweat until the small strips wrapped around to his inner thigh.  Then he began to whine and whisper, “No, no, no”, all the while nodding his head and making eye contact with Mick, urging him to continue. 

As time went on, Ray found he couldn't sag against the restraints like he was used to because it made the unforgiving metal rub inside him more roughly.  “Please, Sir,” he begged.  “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you. Just not using my hands. S'pose you mean your dick? The one that’s leaking all over my floor again.”

Mick swirled the tip of his index finger around the flared head of Ray's fully erect penis.  “That just tickles,” the sub complained. 

“Well we can’t have that.”  He put down the tools and picked up a small riding crop.  The leather flap was inserted between Ray’s thighs and slapped against his defenseless balls.  “That better?”

Ray threw back his head and moaned loudly. Mick taunted him ash he thwapped Ray's stomach.  “Told Pretty I was doin’ art therapy.  Shoulda just told him how much fun I'm havin'. Wish I’da known what a slut you were earlier, Haircut.  Coulda been breakin' you in from day one.”  He gave Ray’s purpling cock a few strokes, wetting his fingers before shoving them into Ray’s gasping mouth.  “That’s it.  That’s what you want, isn't it? To be used however I see fit.”

“Yes, Sir! Use me.  Fill me up.  Make me scream.”

“That’s my plan.”  He took a break to remove the hook from Ray’s backside, leaving him strangely empty and wanting. Mick pulled back and got to work in earnest, alternating the stinger and crop.  Ray begged unabashedly. 

“Please! Please, Sir. I need you to fuck me so bad.” His restraints were quickly undone and Ray was pushed onto the floor, his face on the cool metal. 

“Whatever you say, Haircut.”  Mick’s entry was brutal and he immediately began deep rapid thrusting that shook Ray’s entire body.

“Ohhhhhh,” Ray keened.  “More!  Please don’t stop.” Mick obliged, driving in to him steadily, and Ray felt his self-control slipping away.  The perfectly slick slide of Mick's cock in and out of him was both maddening and something he prayed would never end. It wasn’t hitting his prostate, but his entire channel was stimulated relentlessly.  “Harder,” he grunted.  The slap of skin on skin faded as white noise filled his ears.  "Is that all you got?" he managed to squeak before his thighs began to tremble and his core flexed, while animal-like grunts escaped him.  While bright spots blurred his vision some part of him was aware that Mick was ejaculating inside him, which seemed like a nice addition to whatever was currently happening.  The tremors subsided in their severity, but didn’t stop.  Ray let himself be maneuvered onto his side, and his cheek was patted with a heavy hand. 

"Shit, you okay there, Haircut?” Speaking was impossible as fingers trailed down over his stomach to his twitching cock.  “S’weird but I can’t tell if you…”

Mick gave Ray’s penis a light tug and he exploded.  “Shit-shit-Fuuuuck!"  Ray’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream.  Hands scrabbling for something solid, he hooked his fingers into sturdy scarred arms.  He didn’t know how long it took him to catch his breath, but when he did he was flat on his back, sweating and sticky and his body felt like a lead brick.  Mick shifted and Ray panicked.  “Please don’t leave,” he shouted. 

There was muffled laughter beside him.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.  Not goin’ anywhere.”   Warm lips brushed over his forehead and he was being wiped down with a damp cloth. “You think you can stand?”

Mick helped Ray over to the inflatable mattress he slept on, and held him close.  “You’re good for the ego, Haircut. Haven’t almost killed anybody with my dick before.”

“Anal orgasm,” Ray explained.  “Then when you grabbed me I kinda came again.”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right.  Never had one with another person before.” 

“Huh.  Maybe someday you can show me how to do that to myself.  Then I don’t have to put up with you all the time.” 

Ray laughed weakly. “Sounds like a disincentive to me.”    He snuggled up to Mick and entwined their limbs shamelessly trying to keep him in one place.  He dozed off and when he awoke he was still tucked under his blankets, but Mick was gone.  He heard shuffling nearby.

“You’re fine, sweetheart.  Drink some water and go back to sleep,” Mick called from across the room.  Ray obeyed lazily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me I'm not the only one who drools over Mick in gloves, jeans, and boots with just a little bit of chest showing?


	6. Sacrifices and Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray receives a strong reminder that not all pain is equal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight spoilers for Season 4. Let's just assume the team's all back together and everything's hunky dory.

Ray walked around the next day in a satisfied haze.  Even Mick’s rivalry with John Constantine couldn’t dampen his spirits.  “He’s dangerous, Haircut,” Mick reiterated.

“I know I said he was cool, but I’m not blind to the fact that he’s got sharp edges.  Don’t worry.  I’m happy with the current bad boy on the ship…Sir.”

Mick stared at him with a grim expression.  “He’s gonna get people hurt.”

 xxx

Magic required a lot of research so the team gathered frequently in the library.  Charlie said she that as a magical being so she didn’t have to read about others and went off to re-do her hair for the third time that week.  Not being able to shift and change it was making her cranky.  Ray was skimming Occult Symbology for Dummies while Mick sharpened stakes and stuffed salt packets in the pockets of his jacket.

Nate looked up from the book in his hands.  “Wow, succubi are real?” 

“Think I met one once,” Mick claimed.  “Not sure about my soul, but I was pretty drained when she left.”

Sara smacked him with a rolled-up scroll.  “What about incubi?”

Nate skimmed down.  “Yup, rarer, but they exist.”

Constantine appeared, looking not only as if he had slept in his clothes but that they’d put up a fight.    “Aye, though a good number of them go for blokes.  Repressed homoerotic desire is like Chinese to them.”

“Hooray for demonic equality,” Zari muttered.

Mick picked up the small spikes he’d made and began fitting them in a holster.  Constantine noticed.  “Iron, mate? Excellent choice.”

“Did my homework,” Mick said ominously. 

Gideon interrupted.  “Legends, the magical alarm is sounding.”

 

Cultists in the south of France circa 1920 had made contact with something that actually answered their prayers in exchange for living sacrifices.  Zari literally blew away one group, but others nabbed Ray, Charlie, Constantine, and Sara.  The captain was issuing orders.  "Ray, once we figure out what they’re up to I want you to shrink down and get to the rest of the team. John, what’s it look like out there?.”

Charlie and John conferred for a few minutes before he explained.  “See the nasty stains on the walls from previous offerings?  They use blood magic to summon the beast.”

“What’s our best bet for defeating it?”

Charlie grimaced.  “The beast isn’t actually here.  It only shows when they have something for it. If we don’t catch it at the right time and take it out it’ll move on and cause more damage until we can track it.”

Constantine nodded.  “I know you won’t like it, Sara love, our best bet is to let them start the ritual.  Once the beast manifests we can trap it and send it back to the pit.”

“We can’t let them kill someone,” Ray pointed out.  “Especially since that someone is likely to be one of us.”

“The ritual doesn’t kill.  The beast does that himself.  He feeds on blood and pain.”

Sara nodded curtly.  “I’ll do it.”

Ray quickly put his hand on her arm.  “No, let me talk to you for a minute.”  They went to the corner of the cell for a private discussion.

“Ray, this is no time to be noble.  You’ve taken enough beatings for the team.  This isn’t Russia.”

“True.  Those guys were just jerks.  Listen, remember last week when you saw the marks on my wrists?”

  
Sara’s pursed her lips.  “And you lied to my face about where they came from?”

“I had reasons.  Look, it was consensual.  Believe me when I tell you I can take whatever these nuts can dish out.  I’ve been tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross just like that dozens of times.  I see a cat o’ nine tails and a single tailed bullwhip hanging on the wall.  I can do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.  It'll allow you to trap the creature.  Oh, and don’t tell the rest of the team what I’m doing over the coms; especially Mick.”

“Why?” Ray cocked his head and made a little shrugging motion.  “Oh for cryin’ out loud, he’s the reason for the spring in your step?  You two are ridiculous.”

Ray gave Sara his ATOM suit for safe keeping and made sure he was front and center when the cultists came back.  As he'd hoped, they picked the strongest looking specimen to feed their unholy master.  Ray was unceremoniously stripped to his undies, shackled to the St Andrew’s cross, gagged and blindfolded.  His token struggling became real when they started fastening a heavy leather collar around his neck.  Someone punched him in the stomach and buckled it tightly.  He began taking deep breaths and letting the air out in short bursts, knowing there would be no warm up or safewording out of this situation.  The implements of torture were poorly maintained and instantly caused bruising.  Ray grunted around his gag.   He could hear chanting and was glad for once that he couldn’t see what was going on.  It was imperative that he remain calm.  Someone started using the whip, and the crack echoing in the large chamber.  It hurt more than he had anticipated, and pride quickly fled as he began to cry out and there was no time to prepare for the next blow.   Sara and Charlie were yelling at the cultists, no doubt covering whatever incantation Constantine needed to do.  When the next strike broke the skin, Ray lost control and began screaming into the gag.  “fck uu!”  They hit him again and again, and the wetness on his skin sickened him.  He felt cold steel on his arms and knew it was a knife.  Bloodplay was one of Ray’s hard limits and he had walked away from more than one pushy dom who thought they could convince him otherwise.  Terror gripped him and he started pulling on his restraints. “Mcccck,” he shouted helplessly.  The blade bit into his skin, adding a stinging throbbing sensation to the burning from the lacerations on his back.  Shallow slashes were made on the backs of his thighs.  “Mmmmmmmccck!”

There was a rush of hot air and Ray’s nostrils were assaulted by a sulfurous odor.  There was roaring, followed by shouting and the air was electrified.  Finally, a cool wind that he recognized as Zari’s power washed over him.  He began to sob with relief.  He jerked when cold metal touched his wrists, but it turned out Nate was freeing him. “What did you fuckers do to him?” Mick’s booming voice triggered an involuntary response and Ray tried to pull away from Nate to get to his dom. 

Nate held on tight, lowering him to the ground and removed his blindfold and gag.  “Stay calm.  We’ll get you home as soon as we can.”

Charlie and Sara were kicking people and Mick was threatening to burn every one of them.  At last all the cultists were subdued.  Ray’s throat was raw, but he struggled to speak.  “Need Mick.”

“Mick!” Nate hollered.  “Ray needs you.”  In an instant the big man was by his side, hands hovering, not sure where to touch without causing more pain. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em, Haircut” he muttered.  Ray reached for his arms and caught him, pulling himself into a sitting position.

“You should, Sir,” he croaked.  “Their technique was shit.”

Constantine’s barking laugh cut through the silence as Mick knelt in front of Ray, pressing their foreheads together.  Leather covered thumbs wiped away streaks of tears.  “I shoulda been here, sweetheart.  Gonna make ‘em pay.  They made you bleed.  They made you cry.”  Ray could hear the murmurs of confusion from his team followed by Sara making explanations.  He focused on Mick’s touch and scent. 

“I’m really cold.”  Mick took off his jacket and let Ray put it on backwards to spare his back any contact with the cloth. Still his teeth were chattering.  

“Ray, you might be in shock,” Nate advised.  “We’ll get you to Gideon and she’ll fix you up.”

“Can I go to sleep for a little bit?” Ray asked in a small voice.

“No,” Mick replied firmly.  “You are not allowed to sleep.  Tough it out.”

Ray pouted.  “You’re mean.  I don’t think I’m gonna put a single tail on my Christmas list after all.  Maybe we should go with something softer.  Bunny tails or cotton balls. This scene did nothing for me.  I’m not even half-hard.”

Zari gasped, and Charlie howled.  “Everyone, meet sass mouth Ray,” Mick rumbled.

“Heyyy everybody,” Ray crooned, as Nate picked him up.

  

Gideon confirmed that Ray hadn’t lost very much blood, but his blood pressure had dropped too quickly to be healthy.  Covered in warming blankets and given fluid replacement it was finally safe tor Ray to take a well-deserved nap.   Zari was sitting next to him when he woke up.  “Hey sleepyhead.  Mick will be right back.  I had to make him go clean up and get something to eat before he collapsed next to you.  He did say that he forbids you from doing anything like that every again.”

“He can try to stop me.  But I’m pretty stubborn,” Ray mused. “And he thinks I’m hot so I can probably get away with a fair amount.”  Zari rolled her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you were together?”

Mick rushed back, his clothes damp from having been put on over wet skin.  “Cuz it’s nobody’s business.  We’ll talk to you later.  Shoo.”  He made hand motions and Zari politely excused herself.

Ray smiled and started checking himself out.  “Are all the marks gone?”

“Yeah, Gideon healed you up.”

“Good.  I didn’t want them.  They didn’t come from you.”  His hands went to his neck where the collar had been.

“I cut that off,” Mick informed him.  Ray was relieved.  Mick looked a bit sheepish.  “Did you, uh, maybe want…I mean everybody already knows about us so you don’t gotta have anything that says you’re mine.”

“Are you offering me a collar?”  Despite the day’s events, asking that one question made Ray the most nervous.

“I sorta made one real quick in case it made you feel better.”  Mick withdrew a braided circle of string from his pocket.  “It’s just, ya know, symbolic, until I can get you a real one.”

Ray’s heart sang.  “I’d really like you to put that on me.”

Mick obliged, looping it over Ray’s head.  “Gideon says you can eat now if you’re hungry and then you should go to bed early.  I’ll keep an eye on you and stuff.”

“That’s sweet, Mick.”

He grimaced.  “Tomorrow I’m gonna yell at you for being a brave idiot and you’re in big trouble for getting beat up by weirdos.”

“You gonna teach me a lesson, Sir?”

“Damn right I am.  Starting with what this means.”  He flipped up the string around Ray’s neck.  “Means you’re mine.  And I’m particular about who touches what’s mine.  So hands off, we clear?”

Ray shimmied in his chair.   “If it means your hands on me more I can deal with that.  Though, it was a really rough day and I was thinking that maybe I deserve a little reward.”  He thrust his pelvis up a bit.

Mick shook his head.  “You’re awful, Haircut.  Come eat dinner and then we'll talk about your thirsty ass.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by several recently posted fics where Ray is submissive, into pain, and generally cool with it.


End file.
